


Stand by me

by Morvith



Series: The world needs more Khirk [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Jim being taken care of, Kissing, M/M, protective Khan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morvith/pseuds/Morvith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind the door, Jim was grieving for his lost crewmembers, obsessing over a mission gone wrong. Khan had no intention of letting him face his pain alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand by me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BelsanEmpress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelsanEmpress/gifts).



> Second installment in the "let's piss off all rude Khirk haters" series.
> 
> This one is for BelsanEmperess, who asked for Khan holding Kirk, perhaps singing to him. Unfortunately my headcanon that Augments cannot sing held fast (the only difference from the previous story is that here Khan is perfectly aware of it, so he's determined never to sing out loud when anybody can hear him). I hope you'll like it anyway.

ACCESS DENIED – CODE BLOCKED

 

Khan glared at the door panel, as if trying to melt it with his eyes alone.

One quick glance down the corridor assured him he was still alone and he quickly entered the First Officer's override code – the one that only the Vulcan was supposed to have.

It would mean wiping the logs later – and a lot of trouble if he didn't get to it in time, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

ACCESS DENIED – CODE BLOCKED

 

Of course. As much as he loved Jim's incredible, brilliant mind, sometimes he really hated it.

Well, Jim really should have remembered he had picked up a trick or two since waking up...

 

Khan cracked his knuckles and started entering Mr. Scott's maintenance codes: once those were accepted, hacking Jim's countermeasures would be child's play.

 

********

 

Precisely 71 seconds later, the door opened, finally admitting him into the Captain's quarters and diligently shutting again behind him.

 

Jim was sitting on the floor, surrounded by PADDs and empty protein bar wrappers, his fingers dancing on the keyboard of his main computer as one of those training simulations flashed across the screen – except the terrain looked suspiciously like the planet they had just left behind. The planet that had claimed the lives of three officers in the landing party.

One quick glance at the closest PADDs – the pre-mission data from Starfleet Intelligence, Commander Spock's report – instantly confirmed his worst fears.

 

Slowly, carefully, he crouched down next to him. “Jim?”

 

No response. Those beautiful blue eyes never even left the screen.

 

“Jim!”

 

Jim jumped like a startled cat, half-rolling away and reaching for a weapon that wasn't there before his brain caught up with his body. “Khan! What are you doing here? I...”

 

“Blocked my personal access code, I know. I have my methods.”

 

Jim looked away and grabbed his keyboard back. “Well, I have work to do. If you don't mind...”

 

“Do you even know what time it is, Jim?”

 

He frowned. “You broke in here to ask me the time? Ask the computer.”

 

“It's a quarter past midnight. You were released from Med Bay – against medical advice, I might add – at 7 PM. You haven't been to the mess hall, nor you have used your replicator.”

 

Jim raised his chin. “So? I'm an adult, skipping a meal won't kill me.”

 

“Except you always do it when people die on away missions.” Jim's face flushed. “Is it your way to punish yourself? It won't actually bring them back and you know it.”

 

Jim pushed the keyboard on the ground and stood up. “Careful about what you say, Khan. You're on thin ice.”

 

Khan stood as well, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

 

“One more word and I'll...”

 

“What? Throw me out? Punch me?” Khan spread his arms, leaving himself wide open. “Come on, then, if it makes you feel better.”

 

“Stop it! You don't...”

 

“I don't understand?” he interrupted. “Is that what you were going to say?”

 

Jim looked away, silent. Khan moved in front of him, gently placing his hands on his shoulders. “This must stop, Jim. You're only hurting yourself.”

 

“I know,” Jim replied, still not looking at him. “But I don't know how. I keep thinking that if I had been better...”

 

Khan gently pulled him into his arms, hugging him as tightly as he dared. “There's nothing you could have done.”

 

“Perhaps there was something – some clue I missed...”

 

Khan's arms tightened around him. “It was an ambush, you're not supposed to see them coming. You did the best you could under very adverse condition, with insufficient data and you managed to bring your team back.”

 

“Half of them in a body bag.”

 

“And the other half on their own legs. If there had been anybody else down there, no one would have returned at all.”

 

Jim was quiet again, hiding his face against Khan's neck.

For several seconds, they just stood there, silently – Khan's left hand rubbing soft circles against Jim's back and his right buried in his hair as the young human clung to him for dear life.

If only he could have stopped time right there, holding him safe in his arms...

 

“I'm not saying you shouldn't mourn them,” he whispered. “Or that you should stop caring about your crew. But you can't keep torturing yourself like this, Jim. If you won't do it for yourself or for them, do it for me.”

 

“I'm not sure if I can...” Jim muttered.

 

Khan gently pushed him back, cupping his face in his hands. “Then let me help you. Let me take care of you.”

 

For a second, everything was still, their whole lives hanging on a balance. Perhaps it sounded over-dramatic, but it was true: if Jim rejected him, if he shut him out now... Their relationship would not recover. As much as Khan wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jim, he couldn't be expected to stand aside and watch him suffer without doing anything.

 

But Jim nodded, ever so lightly, and in the flood of pure relief that filled his heart, Khan couldn't stop himself from kissing him.

 

“Thank you, Jim. I won't let you down.”

 

Jim tried to smile – a small, tired smile, so different from his usual bright grin. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

 

“It's not that hard,” he replied. “Go take a hot shower, now, and don't come out for a least 20 minutes.”

 

“Will you join me to keep an eye on me?”

 

Khan sighed, kissed him again, then spun him around and pushed him toward the bathroom. “Maybe. Go, now.”

 

********

 

When Jim stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the soft pajama pants and t-shirt Khan had laid out and warmed for him, his quarters held no trace of his earlier binge: the floor was clean, the PADDs gone, the main computer switched off and on his table there was a tray holding two large, steaming mugs and a plate of biscuits.

 

Jim hesitated, staring at the latter. “Don't you think I indulged enough today?”

 

“There's no being in the known universe who would classify protein bars as an indulgence. You deserve this.”

 

Khan fully expected further resistance, even though it was Jim's favourite comfort food, but he simply sat down in his chair and grabbed his mug – the one with milk and honey.

 

“Wow. It's not even replicated, how did you get it from the kitchen so quickly?”

 

“I have my ways,” Khan took his own mug of chai (Joaquim's secret recipe), and privately reminded himself to do something nice for Yeoman Rand as soon as he had the chance.

 

They ate together in companionable silence, Jim grabbing biscuits by the handful and dunking them in his milk while Khan never took more than one at the time.

 

After they were done, Khan started gathering the mugs and plates. “How do you feel now?”

 

“Better.” He yawned, hurriedly raising a hand to cover his mouth. “Tired.”

 

“Do you think you'll be able to sleep?”

 

“Depends.” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “Will you stay with me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jim looked at him, apparently astonished that it could be that simple. Not for the first time, Khan wished he could find out whoever was responsible for Jim's insecurities and give them a piece of his mind in a definitely non-Federation-approved manner.

 

“Okay. Good. Then we'll just...” Jim trailed off, rising from his seat.

 

Khan waved him off as he finished tidying up, then stepped into the bathroom.

 

When he returned, Jim had already climbed under the covers and turned off the lights the lights – good thing he was used to moving around his quarters in the dark.

As he joined him in bed, he turned to face him, reaching for him – and freezing in place when he realized Khan was down to his underwear.

 

“Uh, I don't think I'm up for...”

 

“I'm not asking for sex, Jim. I'm sorry, I didn't bring anything to sleep in. Can I borrow one of your shirts?” He asked, already moving to get up.

 

“No.” Jim's hand somehow found his arm. “Stay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't... I didn't really think...”

 

Yes, he did, but that was another problem for another day. “Sssh, it's alright,” he whispered, pulling Jim in his arms again. “Just sleep.”

 

“Okay. Uh, you'll have to let me go for that.”

 

“Are you uncomfortable?”

 

“No, but nobody can actually sleep while spooning, right?”

 

“Oh?” Khan asked mildly. “Is that so?”

 

Even without seeing him, he could feel Jim rolling his eyes at him. “Yes, really. Come on, you can't be comfortable.”

 

“I assure you I am.”

 

“You arm will fall asleep.”

 

“It won't. Sleep.”

 

Jim grumbled something about pins and needles and not wanting to hear any complaints the next morning, but finally settled down, reassuringly warm against Khan's own body.

For the first time in the last two days, he felt himself starting to relax as well.

Jim was here. Jim was safe.

Not perfectly at ease, yet, but safe.

 

Khan started softly humming an old song, hoping

 

“Are you seriously singing me to sleep?” Jim slurred, already half-asleep.

 

“Not singing,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the back of his lover's neck. “[Humming.](http://morvith.tumblr.com/post/106444997354/giacomo-puccini-humming-chorus-from-the-opera)”

 

“Don't know why you're so shy about it. I love your voice. 'm gonna hear you sing some day.”

 

“I wouldn't hold my breath about that.”

 

“I will. You love me.”

 

Impossible man. “I do. Sleep now.”

 

“Khan?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Love you too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus mini soundtrack on my tumblr: morvith.tumblr.com/post/106444997354/giacomo-puccini-humming-chorus-from-the-opera
> 
> (also available by hyperlink in the text itself)


End file.
